


before we go

by pathtothegrave



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, One Shot, before the final battle, i'm still helplessly in love with merrill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:00:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25167349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pathtothegrave/pseuds/pathtothegrave
Summary: It was time to say goodbye, and there she was, babbling again. She would not have been able to tell these were their last moments, but they had to be. She disbelieved her own instinct, that promised her they would yet live to see another day. She had to.What else could she have done, when she had witnessed Isabela so vulnerable, Varric so uneasy, and Carver so biddable to his sister, for once, all in the same hour? It was the end of the world. It had to be. It did not feel quite right.“Does all of this feel like a dream to you, too?”
Relationships: Female Hawke/Merrill
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	before we go

They stood on the precipice of ruination, and yet she did not seem to be at all that bothered by it. 

“I feel like I’m forgetting something.” She confessed. “Or there’s more to do, or…” 

She had to pause, and reflect. She had seen Hawke speak to the others before her. There were tears. Embraces. Confessions. 

What sounded to her like goodbyes. 

And yet, she could not bring herself to feel the urgency that drove them on. 

“Does all of this feel like a dream to you, too?” Merrill wondered. 

She laughed at herself, as she had been taught to, for her ineptness; her failure to express. 

It was time to say goodbye, and there she was, babbling again. She would not have been able to tell these were their last moments, but they had to be. She disbelieved her own instinct, that promised her they would yet live to see another day. She had to. 

What else could she have done, when she had witnessed Isabela so vulnerable, Varric so uneasy, and Carver so biddable to his sister, for once, all in the same hour? It was the end of the world. It had to be. It did not feel quite right. 

It was unfortunate, that Merrill had been made to believe that she could not express herself very well, for her unwillingness to succumb to despair was so earnest, her desire to carry on so touching, that life itself respectfully stood still, that she may figure out what it was that she was forgetting, what still needed to be done, and wait for her to do it, till the end of time, if need be. 

Merrill would have normally been thankful, for having been granted the scarce opportunity to speak so liberally to her beloved. Uninterrupted; untroubled. 

Yet, it seemed an odd time for such mercies. She had prayed for it, once, and it had gone unanswered. 

It was curious, she thought, they she had been allowed this moment then, of all times, when all words were reserved for tearful farewells and desperate prayers. It was only then that she, for once, felt like she had all the time in the world. 

The battle could wait. The deaths could wait. The pain could wait. 

The mourning that she feared would follow could most certainly wait. 

She silently hummed a prayer of gratitude, that the Gods have chosen this untimely hour to stretch a mere minute into an eternity. 

It was but a brief moment of stillness, and she worried they had already overstayed their welcome. 

“My love…” Merrill called, but no words answered her plea. 

If there had once been words at all that could have come to her aid, if there had been any lines so amply diligent so as to impart the depths of the emotion; the heights of devotion, that she meant to tell, then the words had already fled long ago, amidst the turmoil and confusion of the battle. 

For even words feared, that if they had concluded their conversation, the world would commence once more, and they, too, feared what might come next. 

But her love knew no words, and no words knew her love. 

Only she knew her love, and no one else could. 

“I know.” Hawke said, despite it all, and even she could manage no further than that. 

And so they left their words untold, hanging in permanent suspension in silent agreement that it was best left that way, and if their Gods had not exhausted their compassion for the day, they would grant them one more mercy that they may pick up where they left, when all is said and done. 

And so time blurred and redefined for the two lovers in the burning city. 

They could have stayed like that forever. But they didn’t. 

Hawke could feel the dread crawl again on her back, and her heart begun to race. She wondered if Merrill was scared, too. 

But Merrill only smiled as she offered a steady arm to Hawke, as though she were asking for a dance; as though the battlefield were a ballroom. 

And Hawke took her hand with a firm gaze and a gentle touch, and closed her eyes as she revelled in the the feeling of her fingers intricately wound in hers, then the feeling of her warm lips on her own, the comforting embrace that was her presence, and she was afraid no longer. 

Ever the opportunists, their lips seized the moment, and stealthily bestowed the unspoken words upon one another, in a clandestine song only the two could hear, so swiftly that the world could not tell, and thus remained patiently still, none the wiser. 

If Hawke’s heart had still been pounding, if her hands had yet been quivering, she could not have known it, for in that moment, she felt apart from herself. In that moment, she was nobody and nothing but a ray of light that shone, amidst the imposing dread that had swallowed the city whole and demanded there no longer be hope nor joy. 

She was an impossible candlelight, sustained by a love so pure, that shone on, undeterred, despite it all. Yet another act of rebellion that broke out that night, albiet smaller than the one that brought on these events. 

Hawke had to smile, too, then. What ever it was that seized Kirkwall and held it in a fist of hopelessness, was the same that had siezed her when she first arrived in the city, so many years ago. 

And for once, she felt free from its grasp. 

She had already won a battle that day, one that rendered the upcoming one unthreatening and inocious. 

And in that moment, all was well. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading <3
> 
> You might have seen this last year on Tumblr. I'm just moving this to my ao3.
> 
> Merrill's romance is my absolute favourite and I adore her. Her 'goodbye' scene stood out to me as very calm and serene compared to the other LIs' when I watched them later and I wanted to write about how beautiful I found that fact :)


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